The Unseen
Dust gathers
on the sleeves of morning,
while sunlight hides
inside tired hands.
The city wakes slowly...
steel shutters,
factory smoke,
a kettle singing
in a worker's kitchen.
Someone walks toward another day,
carrying yesterday's exhaustion
like an invisible country
upon their back.
Yet dawn persists,
breaking through cracked pavements
and the stubborn courage
of ordinary people.
Flags rise like restless birds.
Voices gather
like rain before the storm.
Even silence
learns a different breath.
For every road,
every tower,
every window lit after dark
has passed through
the hands of someone unseen.
And somewhere
beneath the noise of the world,
a quiet truth endures:
No life is ever small.
Copyright@farukahmedroni
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